At The Graveyard (2)
S
Sheena Blackhall
0
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Do dry bones dream?
When the music's over
Do they sleep like crotchets
In the unplayed bars of a fugue?
They are beyond the reach of hatred, love, despair
They are the missing pieces
Of family jigsaws
And their visitors, the mourners
Can you see their hearts cracking
Beneath their rainproof coats?
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş